style="font-size:15px;"> Shaun had worked hard. His little rough hands burned. His little sturdy body ached. He was hungry.
He had gone home and, seeing the family at dinner, he had helped himself to potatoes.
His stepmother had cried, "Begob, and did I tell you to serve yourself? Are you, indeed, the King himself?"
With that, she had beaten him.
Now Shaun stood upon the shore of that blue Irish lake near his village. He had taken a suit of clothes belonging to one of his stepbrothers. A suit of boy's clothes it was.
He would put it on. He would stand by the lake and call to the leprechauns to take him away. He would work for the leprechauns. Yes, willingly would he work and toil for the fairy folk!
He started to undo the paper in which he had wrapped the clothing. He heard a sound and looked up. Eileen was standing before him. It was his little Dawn O'Day.
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